Good Things Come to Those Who Wait
by Kneazle
Summary: [unbeta'ed ABANDONED] Charlie is set in charge of fixing the Weasley's new car... but fixing a Muggle car is something Charlie isn't good at, so he enlists Hermione's help. CWHG
1. Good Things 01

Good Things

(Come to Those Who Wait)

Kneazle

**Disclaimer**: All characters, events, places belong to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Scholastics, Bloomsbury, and Raincoast. Song is by Evan and Jaron, "Crazy for this Girl". 

**Summary**: Charlie is set in charge of fixing the Weasley's new car – but fixing a Muggle car is something Charlie isn't good at, so he enlists Hermione's help. CW/HG

*

_She rolls the window down_

_And she talks over the sound_

_Of the cars that pass us by_

_And I don't know why_

_But she's changed my mind_

*

CHAPTER ONE

            The beginning of summer started on a hot Wednesday, according to Hermione's calendar, and that particular Wednesday promised of hotter days to come.

            Hermione had just finished her last year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, spending most of the last two months in the hospital wing thanks to Rabastan Lestrange (now locked away in Azkaban, an empty shell). She, Ron, and Harry had all survived the final she-bang against Voldemort and had come out victorious. They, however, were too weak to make it to the celebrations and parties that had been going on late into the mornings those days; instead they spent it in the hospital wing with others who were recovering or injured, and the Weasley family.

            She had been included, along with Harry, to have a Weasley celebration, which included champagne, cauldron cakes, and many, many chocolate frogs. Most of the family was in the hospital wing, anyway: Ron, Ginny, George, Fred, Bill, and Arthur. The rest had come along to cheer them up, and with Hermione and Harry being honorary Weasleys were included. 

            In the end, Hermione started talking to Charlie about his part of the war, and they spent most of the night talking about his dragon squad and his work in Romania. 

            Hermione, somewhere in the back of her mind, knew that she would always end up with a Weasley. She just didn't know which one.

            Hermione was sitting on the lumpy couch in her den; her long, tanned legs casually tossed over one of the armrests, and a heavy hard cover novel resting in her lap. She was contently chewing on the end of a red licorice stick, her eyes moving back and forth as the words of the novel settled in her memory.

            She was so absorbed in reading that she didn't notice Pig until he hooted psychotically and made a bomb-dive for her head. 

            "Ow!" Hermione raised one hand to rub her corkscrew curls. "Pig! What was the meaning of that? A simple 'hoot' could have done fine."

            Pig settled down on the back of the sofa, sticking his short leg out for Hermione to relieve the letter that was placed there. 

            She did so and opened it carefully. One never knew if the Weasley twins had gotten a hold of it before it was sent off. 

            However, it was a simple letter from Ron, asking her to come and visit the Burrow that summer before she started at the Muggle University she was going to, to appease her parents.

            _'Dear Mione,'_ he had written. Hermione snorted. Of course he would call her that ridiculous nickname Fred dreamed up while they were bored one night in the hospital wing. She made a metal note to get Fred back for that. 

            '_How are you? Everyone is fine here, and everyone is here for a change. Charlie's not in Romania, and might be staying here in England for a bit, Bill's not off to Egypt until December or so – something about the goblins of Gringotts unsure about sending their curse breakers out so soon after You-Know-Who's fall – and even Percy and the Twins are here instead of Diagon Alley and the Ministry._

_            'You know you're wanted here, love. Send Pig back with an answer, as soon as possible – Harry and I miss you terribly. Ginny has been pleading with mum and dad to have another female over and she keeps complaining when Harry or I mention Luna. I don't think they're quite close, despite the fact that she's my little sister and Luna's my girlfriend, don't you think?_

            'Anyway, come soon, and if you can't, well… come anyways! Lots of love, your friend, Ron.'

            Hermione bit back a grin. It seemed that nothing had changed. The Weasleys were still the Weasleys, and everyone seemed to be all right. Of course, with Hermione being of age, she could go regardless of what her parents wished, so she grabbed a Muggle pen lying on the coffee table and scribbled a quick reply to Ron at the bottom of the letter. 

            _'Ron,'_ she wrote, _'I'll be at the Burrow tomorrow morning with all my personals for the summer… at say… eleven o'clock? If you have any problems just Floo me, okay? Love you too – tell Harry and Ginny I say hello. Yours, Hermione.'_

            With her reply written, Hermione summoned Pig back to her and tied the letter to his leg. "Now, be careful with this, Pig. Don't do anything silly."

            Pig seemed to give her an owlish reproach and soared off and out of the open window at the end of the den. 

            With a sigh, Hermione closed her now forgotten novel and swept her feet off the armrest. She stood, stretching and relishing in the feel of her sore bones and kinks righting themselves. 

            Then, she went out of the room to inform her parents of her new summer plans. They would just have to make due without her, she decided, feeling little remorse after the awful row they had in wanting her to go to a Muggle university instead of going to Stonehenge Colligate or to the Ministry. 

            Hermione found her parents sitting outside under a massive oak tree that offered much shade. They were seated in two identical lounge chairs, sipping lemonades and talking in low, soft tones. 

            When Hermione approached, they looked up and smiled at their only daughter. 

            "What is it, darling?" asked her mother, Helena Granger.

            Hermione took a deep breath, mentally preparing for anything thrown her way. "I'm going to the Burrow tomorrow and staying there for the rest of the summer, until I start at…" her voice took on a bitter tone, "Oxford."

            Helena Granger let her sunglasses fall on her lap. "What? Darling – you can't. I made plans with all my friends to have their daughter with them for get-togethers, and even some of us mothers started matchmaking"—

            "Matchmaking? Get-togethers? Mother, please," Hermione sighed, "I'm eighteen, I certainly don't need you matchmaking in my life, or planning get-togethers in hope that I will bond with one of your friends' daughters. Harry and Ron are my best friends, and you'll eventually have to accept that."

            "Yes, but…" Helena's voice trailed off as she glanced helplessly at her husband. Samuel Granger cleared his throat and sat a bit straighter in the lounge. 

            "Hermione, sweetie," he began, "Think about this. Do you want to spend your summer with… with the Weasleys? When you could be making friends who are 'normal'?"

            "_Normal_? Now, what do you mean by that?" Hermione asked, softly, her eyes a steely colour. 

            "Well, it's just that you need friends that are normal, dear, and not well… magical," Samuel finished mildly, turning his head to see what his wife thought. 

            Helena nodded. "Please, Hermione, think of this."

            "I don't need to think about it, mother, father," said Hermione, through gritted teeth. "I am going to the Weasley's this summer whether you like it or not, and I am going to Oxford to mollify you both. I happen to like my talents and skills very much, and enjoy living in that world." Hermione sighed. "Now, if you have nothing left to say, I will begin packing, and then go out to the mall to pick up some other items that I might not have."

            Without waiting for an answer, Hermione turned on her heel and left her parents sharing worried glances behind her. 

            Three hours later, Hermione had finished packing her necessary items, with only a few missing. Though, she did need a nice dress to wear if the occasion called for it; one never knew when the press might show up unexpected when one was out and about – and Hermione wished not to be caught unawares. 

            So, with that in mind, she grabbed her purse and wallet, ready to go to the local mall to buy said dress. She had only made three or four steps towards her door when her mother's head poked in. 

            "Do you need to go to the mall, darling? I need to pick some things up myself," she asked. 

            Hermione nodded. "I do. I need a dress."

            Helena smiled. "Wonderful. Let's go now then, while Sam stays here."

            Hermione followed her mother out of the house and into their car, buckling herself up as she did so, wondering if there was a change in her mother's attitude about wizards as of late. 

            Hermione really couldn't blame them; Dumbledore had thought it imperative to let Muggle-born parents know of the war that was brewing. When the Grangers learnt of it, however, they threatened to take Hermione out of the school until Dumbledore himself told them that Hermione was needed and most desired at Hogwarts. Even if they had taken her out, she would still be in danger of Death Eaters. 

            In the end, her parents agreed to let her return for her last year, but since then, had been trying to get her more involved in the world she had left behind many years ago – the Muggle world.

            They arrived at the mall without hitch, or talk, and began to window shop. Helena went into a George and Denny's, looking at a blue scarf for winter, and Hermione stood idly by. 

            She wondered what Fred and George had been up to; maybe she could persuade her mother to take her to Diagon Alley, to visit them? No, it would be too late when they arrived at Charring Cross. Hermione sighed. Only a day, Hermione, only a day left. 

            With her items paid for, Helena and Hermione left the store, wandering around. Hermione finally saw a gorgeous dress to try on at a vintage store, and immediately pulled her mother in. 

            Hermione grabbed the midnight blue dress, and slipped into the changing room. She took her clothes off and pulled the hidden zipper of the dress down. She slithered into it, pulling the spaghetti straps up onto her shoulders, and reached behind to zip the dress up. She did so with little difficulty, and stepped out of the changing room to see her reflection. 

            "Hermione, you look wonderful," Helena commented, smiling tenderly at her daughter. "What will you wear it for?"

            "I'm not sure. Maybe a dinner at the Weasley's, or the society ball that Albus Dumbledore is planning for in October. It would certainly fit in there."

            "Society ball?" Helena asked, curious. 

            Hermione nodded and turned her head to look at her mother over her shoulder. "Yes, the society ball. Albus is planning it, to have everyone who help defeat Voldemort celebrate the downfall. Most of us – the ones who were actually there – were still recovering the weeks following the war, so we never joined in the merriment. Having the ball will allow everyone to."

            "Oh," was all her mother said, before Hermione slipped away again. She put her clothes on and then folded the dress to take to the counter. 

            As see paid, her mother commented, "Are you saying then… that you were there when it happened? I thought you were some behind-the-scenes operator."

            "Hardly," Hermione gave a dry laugh. "I was up there in the front lines with Harry and Ron, one of the few who were there in the chamber when we destroyed him."

            "That's not what you told us you were doing!" chastised Helena.

            Hermione shrugged. "You would have worried otherwise."

            "Exactly, and I don't now? This is why your father and I don't want you associating with that _world_ anymore. It's not for you – it's dangerous. Too dangerous."

            "You can hardly tell me what to do anymore, mother. Did I mention that I'm moving out too?"

            "What?" Helena hissed, surprised. "When did this happen? What have you been keeping from us?"

            "Just enough, apparently," answered Hermione easily as she glanced at her mother. Both were the same height, with brown hair. That was were the similarities began and stopped. Hermione was short with corkscrew brown hair that never went straight, while Helena had straight brown hair. Helena's eyes were green while Hermione's were brown. Helena liked chaos and things she knew, while Hermione liked order and learning. 

            Helena would never understand why Hermione loved the wizarding world, which made Hermione sad. Perhaps that was what Petunia Dursley felt, and why she loathed Lily Potter so much, the young woman mused. 

            Hermione sighed. "Please mother. Don't start this now. I'm not your child anymore, but an adult in both worlds. If I choose to move out, then I go. Don't make this any harder."

            Helena said nothing, but was noticeably colder for the rest of the shopping trip. 

            At dinner that night, the table was quiet and alarming to Hermione. She knew that her mother had spoken to her father, and that they were both silently fuming. Soon, Hermione knew that they would erupt and the picture would not be pretty. 

            She desperately wished for some backup. 

            Finally, after what seemed like ages, Samuel Granger cleared his throat and began in a gravelly voice, "Hermione, your mother has brought some things to my attention recently that I believe we should discuss."

            "All right," replied Hermione, setting her knife and fork down on the table, folding her hands demurely in her lap. 

            Sam glanced at Helena, who nodded. He said, "You were on the front lines, I believe, in the war, with Harry and Ron, instead of behind the scenes work which you said you were doing."

            "Yes."

            "So… you lied to us… and then you told your mother that you were moving out soon?"

            "Yes, again," echoed Hermione, nodding slightly. Where was her father going with this?

            "Where will you find the funds to live on your own? While you are at school?" he asked. 

            Ah, thought Hermione, here we go. "I won't be living alone. I'll be with Harry and Ron. We've already found the townhouse and started moving some of our things in. We're sharing the rent, and we all have enough money to live comfortably."

            It was true, she thought. Since she worked in the Order with her two friends, and helped in the defeat of Voldemort, they had all been paid a considerable sum for their work – from both Dumbledore and the Ministry. It was more money than Harry had even seen or had, which was saying something. Together, their sums would have been equivalent to living alone in the downtown London area.

            "Where did you acquire these funds?" Sam asked. 

            Hermione smiled, "Through the Order. Being a member of the team that defeated Voldemort made us heroes and quite popular. The Ministry and Dumbledore both paid the three of us nice sums."

            Sam's eyebrows rose. "Why are you doing this?"

            "Doing what, father?"

            "Breaking your ties with us."

            "I am not," replied Hermione, almost childishly. "If you had ever listened, you would know that I love the wizarding world and it is now my home. You are both still my parents and nothing could ever change that and I do love you both, but sometimes you are entirely too stubborn for your own good! You cannot make me stay here against my will, or make me date someone I do not care for. I certainly will not care for a Muggle. I can't see myself with a Muggle in the future, I'm afraid. 

            "And, yes, you have gotten me to go to a Muggle university, but that is all. I won't do anything else to make you even try to understand how my life is now. I want to include you, but I can't if you won't listen," Hermione finished her monologue and looked at her parents. 

            Both were quiet as they looked at Hermione and their plates, thinking. Finally, Samuel said in a quiet voice, "if that is how you feel, then make sure that your things are packed. Move into that flat of yours and don't come back, Hermione. Not until you realize just how dangerous that world is."

            Hermione nodded, on the outside appearing calm as she stood, placed her dish by the sink and left the kitchen. However, as soon as she made it to her bedroom and closed the door behind her, she sank to the floor with her head on her knees and sobbed. 

            The next morning, Hermione slept in late as to avoid seeing her parents at breakfast and before she left. She was certain that she didn't want to talk to them, and the feeling was apparently mutual because at ten she heard her parents start the car and drive away. 

            Unsure of how long her freedom would last, Hermione took her time to say goodbye to the home that she had known for seventeen years of her life. Finally, she stepped in the living room and tossed some floo powder in the fire. It changed to green, warm to the touch but not burning her. 

            She shrunk her trunk and possessions, and placed them in her pocket, zipping that closed. She then stepped into the fire and shouted clearly, "The Burrow!"

            She spun around and around, her eyes tightly closed until she felt the fireplace spew her out. Hermione landed with a painful thud on the floor of the Weasley's living room, covering in soot and her nose beginning to twitch uncertainly. 

            "Mum, dad! Hermione's here!" a male voice shouted, entering the room she was currently lying in. 

            Two pairs of arms wrapped themselves under Hermione's arms as she was lifted from the floor. Her eyes opened and she saw Harry and Ron standing before her, grinning widely. 

            "How are you Mione? All well?" asked Ron. 

            Harry ran a hand through his hair. "How's your summer been so far, love?"

            Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but she paused, her nose twitching. Harry and Ron shared a look, before Hermione took a step back and let out a squeaky, "_a-choo!_"

            Ron grinned. "Well, that was cute."

            Hermione glared at him through watery eyes. "It was not," she replied, stiffly. "I am a bookworm. Bookworms don't do 'cute'."

            Harry let out a laugh that turned into a cough at the last second. He placed an arm around Hermione, and with his wand in his other hand did a simple cleaning charm on her. "Now, now, Mione. Ron's just saying that he thinks you're cute. We both do. You are, after all, the woman in our lives."

            "I hope not!" laughed Hermione. "What would Luna say?"

            "Dunno," shrugged Ron. "I'll have to ask her about that."

            "And you Harry? Is there anyone in your life?" asked Hermione, turning back to her best friend. 

            "I'd like to say yes, but alas, there is no one." Harry sighed and faked a sad look on his face, even managing to make his lower lip quiver. Hermione laughed. 

            "Oh please, Harry."

            The trio entered the kitchen, with Hermione receiving warm hellos and hugs. She found herself seated next to Arthur, who was engaging her in a conversation about Muggle cars. 

            "Do you know much about them?" he asked. 

            "A bit," Hermione admitted. "I have my own car, you see, a Mini, and I had to take some courses to figure out if anything went wrong with it."

            Arthur's eyes lit up. "Fascinating!" 

            Molly shot him a glare. "Don't even think about asking her, Arthur. You already having Charlie out there in that garage trying to fix that new blasted car of yours, and dragging the child into it will do her no good!"

            "New car? What's going on?" Hermione asked, glancing at her friends. Ginny, who was sitting next to Bill and Percy, playing some wizard version of monopoly, spoke up. "Dad found a car and er… did some things to it."

            Hermione raised an eyebrow. 

            Arthur grinned proudly. "I added an invisibility charm to it again, and enlarged the boot and inside, Hermione. Perhaps you'd like to see it later?"

            "Certainly," Hermione opened her mouth to say, but Molly Weasley snapped, "Arthur! Don't even think about it! This is Hermione's holiday, and she doesn't have to be surrounded by Muggle things day and night, listening to you blabber on about Muggle items."

            "But dear…" Arthur trailed off. Hermione, Harry and Ron shared an amused glance. 

            "It's all right Molly," Hermione spoke, "I'll go out with Arthur and see the car. I'd love to, actually."

            "Wonderful! Perhaps you can figure out what's wrong with it," he beamed. 

            "Wrong?" asked Hermione, frowning. 

            Ron nodded. "Yes, ever since Bill took it to the town, there have been problems. The whole car has been… shuddering or the likes. No one in the family can figure it out and we don't want to take it to a what's-it-called? Car mechandlic?"

            "Mechanic," both Harry and Hermione corrected Ron automatically. Hermione continued with a sigh, "You should have taken Muggle Studies Ron… honestly."

            Hermione stood. "Maybe we should go look at the car now, Mr. Weasley."

            Arthur stood and ushered Hermione out of the back door, across the lawn and towards a shed that served as the garage. Pulling open the large barn-like doors, Hermione spotted the car immediately. It was a North American model, a Ford station wagon from the early 80's. 

            Music blared from somewhere in the barn like garage, and the hood of the car was open and raised. Hermione spotted several Muggle tools lying about the floor, on workbenches and a lone chair, but no toolbox. Everything was completely disorganized. 

            Looking back at the car, Hermione was surprised to finally notice someone in Muggle blue jeans and a green rib top partially hidden underneath the car. 

            Arthur, catching her gaze, nodded towards the person. "I've had Charlie working on the car as of late, but he can't seem to figure out what's wrong with it." He raised his voice, and shouted over the music, "Charlie! I've brought someone here to help you!"

            On a sliding seat, Charlie Weasley pushed himself out from underneath the car. His hands held onto the car's frame, and his face had oil and grease on it – but it was clear to Hermione just who the seven years her elder was. 

            Charlie looked at the pair standing in front of him, blinking owlishly as he did so. He blindly patted the ground around him for his wand, and when he found it, he waved it in the air. Instantly, the music disappeared and an odd ringing silence ensured. 

            He sat up, stretching his legs out in front of him and grinning at his father and Ron's friend. "Hi dad, Hermione, right?"

            "Right," Hermione nodded. She glanced towards the car. "What's wrong with it?"

            "It keeps shuddering, or vibrating. I can't seem to figure out what the problem is," informed Charlie, standing and reaching for a cloth to wipe his hands and face with. Arthur watched the two for a couple minutes as they discussed the car before announcing, "I'm going now. Tell me what happens later."

            He promptly disappeared, leaving the two alone in the garage. 

            "Do you know what it is?" Charlie asked, looking down at the short young woman. 

            Hermione nodded. "I have an idea. Do you have the keys?"

            Charlie handed the keys over to her, ignoring the heat from her body, and the tingling sensations he felt when their fingers brushed each other. 

            Hermione opened the driver's door and slid in, putting the eyes in and leaving the car in park. She listened as the engine roared to life, then shuddered, making the whole car vibrate and shake. She gunned the engine, pushing the gas pedal to the ground but the shuddering didn't stop. Nodding in satisfaction, she turned the engine off and retracted the keys, and stepped out of the car, slamming the door shut. 

            "I think I've got it," she declared. 

            "Great," replied Charlie. "What is it?"

            Hermione moved to the hood of the car, glancing at it. "Well, there are some things that could be wrong with it if the car is shuddering. It could be the wheel bearings, the brakes, or the engine mount. We'll have to check all of them. There weren't any lights on in the warnings so we're okay there."

            "So what shall we check first?"

            "Wheel bearings, I think. It'll be more work, but best do that now in case it is," Hermione suggested.

            Together, they removed (one at a time) the wheels, the bolts, and check the bearings. Finding nothing wrong with them, they moved on to the brakes. 

            There was nothing wrong with them either, so Hermione motioned them to look at the engine. "It has to be the mounts then."

            Together, they pulled the bolt out of one of the mounts and replaced all of them, before putting the bolts back in. Charlie slid behind the wheel of the car and started it. 

            The engine purred, with no shuddering or vibrating whatsoever. 

            Grinning, Charlie turned the engine off and closed the car door. "You did it! Excellent work!" 

            "Thank you," Hermione replied, smiling. "I had the same problem on my own car earlier when I got it."

            Charlie grinned down at her. "Well, since you can drive and actually have a license, perhaps you would like to take me out for a drive?"

            Hermione smiled back, taking the keys from his hand. "I'd be delighted."

            Together, the slid into the car, wrapped the seatbelts around them and waited as Hermione started the engine, checking the mirrors and looking over her shoulder at blind spots. 

            She grinned, gunned the engine and asked, "Ready?"

            "Very," replied Charlie, giving Hermione a tiny smirk. She wiggled her eyebrows at him and changed gears from parked into drive, and left the garage, going down the Burrow's driveway path until she reached the road. She rolled down the windows, and smiled into the breeze. 

            She then flicked the blinker and turned right onto the road, beginning to drive into Ottery St. Catchpole.

            Charlie reached for the radio, and turned up the volume of a song that was playing. Together, they rode in a comfortable silence, exchanging grins every so often. 

            "How was your summer so far, Hermione?" Charlie finally asked, resting one arm on the passenger side of the car. 

            "All right, I suppose," replied the woman. 

            "All right? That's it?" asked Charlie, leaning forward. "It had to have been better than just 'all right'."

            Hermione's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "No, it was just all right. Fine. Shitty, actually."

            Charlie's eyebrows rose. He gently reached over to where one of Hermione's hands were on the steering wheel and turned the car so that they were on the shoulder of the road. "What happened?" he asked, gently. 

            Hermione sighed and let her hands drop into her lap. She tried to tell herself that it was because she was dejected, not because of the wonderful feelings she got when Charlie touched her. 

            "My parents kicked me out," she finally mumbled. 

            "What!" Charlie exclaimed. "Why? You're smart, so I can't believe it's because of your marks…" he trailed off as he saw a tear streak down her cheek. "Mione?" he asked, using her nickname. 

            Hermione bit her bit and tried to stop crying. "It was so stupid!" she finally burst out. "They kicked me out because I was going to the Burrow – and not staying at home and get matched up with Muggles. I don't want to go to Oxford in September. I want to work at the Ministry, or help the Order still. I don't _want_ to go to a Muggle school."

            Charlie reached for Hermione, pulling her awkwardly towards him as he wrapped his arms around her. 

            With his free hand he pulled the keys out of the ignition and then gently guided her head to rest on his shoulder. He felt the wetness of her tears as they soaked the strap of his rib top, but did not move. She needed to cry out her worries at the moment, and he was there for her. 

            After a couple of minutes, the tears dried up, leaving Hermione hiccupping. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her head down with her hair shielding her eyes from his view. 

            Charlie placed two fingers under her chin and lifted her head, smiling down at her. "There's nothing to be sorry about. I think I would cry like that too, if I were in your shoes."

            Hermione gave a bitter, choked laugh. "Ha! I doubt it. Your parents care so much for all of you… they are so unlike my parents."

            Charlie shook his head. "You know that Mum and Dad consider you one of their own, already, Hermione."

            "I know," she replied timidly. 

            Charlie continued on, stroking her back calmingly as he did so. "And you know that they already consider you as a Weasley, thinking you'll end up with one of our lot."

            Hermione did chuckle at that. Charlie, amused, muttered, "I certainly hope it's not Ron… or, egad, Percy."

            Hermione burst out laughing. "It will never be Percy or Ron, Charlie! Honestly – Percy is engaged and Ron has Luna."

            "Is she that little blonde thing with weird eyes?"

            "Charlie!"

            "What! I was serious!" he countered, grinning into Hermione's hair, with his arms still around her. 

            They were silent as they sat together in the car, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Hermione stirred and murmured, "We should head back and tell your father that I've gotten the car fixed."

            "You mean, _we_," Charlie grinned, pulling slightly back from Hermione and trying to not let the loss show on his face. 

            Hermione slid back towards the steering wheel and shot Charlie a saucy wink that made him want to moan out loud. Once the car was started again, and they were heading back to the Burrow, did Charlie speak. 

            "What are you going to do about your parents?"

            Hermione shrugged, tucking a way-ward strand of hair behind her ears as the wind blew in the car. "Dunno. I don't want to not ever talk to them again, but they need to realize that both worlds can be equally as dangerous."

            Charlie nodded, and said nothing. There was a lot to think about.

AN: Oh wow! A Charlie/Hermione story! So, tell me what you think – shall I continue writing this, or should I abandon this story? Just to let you all know: I plan on writing a story with every single pairing that I can come up with, especially the unknown ones. So, **read, review and enjoy**! Yours, Kneazle


	2. Good Things 02

Good Things

(Come to Those Who Wait)

Kneazle

**Disclaimer**: All characters, events, places belong to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Scholastics, Bloomsbury, and Raincoast. Song is by Evan and Jaron, "Crazy for this Girl". 

**Summary**: Charlie is set in charge of fixing the Weasley's new car – but fixing a Muggle car is something Charlie isn't good at, so he enlists Hermione's help. CW/HG

  


*

_Would you look at her as she looks at me_

_She's got me thinkin' about her constantly_

_But she don't know how I feel_

_And as she carries on without a doubt_

_I wonder if she's figured out_

_I'm crazy for this girl_

_I'm crazy for this girl_

*

CHAPTER TWO

            Three weeks later, it was the last day of July – the 31 – and soon Hermione, Ron and Harry would have to send out their applications to the Ministry if they wished to work for them. 

            Hermione lay with Ron and Harry in the Burrow's backyard, listening to crickets chirp and bees buzz around. It was one of those lazy summer days, with the sun high in the warm, humid air, where time seemed to move slowly and no one wanted to do anything. 

            In the background, beyond the sound of the crickets, birds and bees, Hermione could hear Charlie's favorite tunes coming from the garage where he was tinkering with the Ford. He and Arthur kept trying to add more gadgets to it, making Hermione wonder if everything they were doing was legal. 

            However, Hermione didn't dwell long on that. Instead, she turned her mind to her two best friends. 

            She was lying between the two, their arms all stretched out so they all rested their heads on each other's arms. Hermione's were falling asleep, tingling with nerve ends under Harry and Ron's heads. 

            She didn't mind. 

            Ron was snoring softly on her left, and Harry was staring up at the sky with one arm sprawled over his eyes to shade them. 

            "What are you doing, Harry?" Hermione asked, turning her head towards him. 

            "Looking at the clouds," he replied, sighing softly. "I'm looking at the one that looks like a giant dog."

            "Which one is it?" asked Hermione gently, turning her head up at the sky. Sirius was still a sore spot for the three of them. 

            Harry let his hand point to the cloud, before letting it drop back to his face. "That one."

            Hermione spotted it easily. She sighed, before letting her eyes wander to other clouds. "There's one that looks like Hogwarts."

            Harry chuckled. "So it does." He paused, before saying, "And there's Malfoy – see that pointy section? It looks like his nose when he's looking down at us."

            Hermione and Harry laughed outright, making Ron snort, wake, and asked in a mumbling voice, "Whas' it? Som'thing wrong?"

            Harry and Hermione laughed harder, and rolled about the ground, making Ron feel left out. He began plucking some grass and then proceeded to tickle Hermione's nose with it. "See if you like that, hah!"

            Hermione squealed with laughter and rolled over Harry to land on his other side. Harry made an "oomph" sound, but then continued laughing as Ron got up and began to chase Hermione around the yard. 

            She didn't look where she was going, glancing back over her shoulders to escape Ron. One minute Hermione was running freely, and the next she hit something very solid and warm, and covered with grease. 

            Charlie wrapped his arms around Hermione and hauled her into his arms, away from Ron's grass-attack. A streak of grease was across Hermione's forehead and cheek, as Charlie's hands and shirt were covered in it. 

            "Now, now, Ron," he chided good-naturally, "Didn't Mum tell you not to pick on Hermione?"

            Ron flushed, but didn't drop the grass. Harry appeared behind him. "Interesting catch there, Charlie," he said instead. 

            Hermione squirmed. "Hey! Doesn't anyone remember I'm afraid of heights, and this is pretty high…"

            "Mione," laughed Ron, "You're three feet above the ground. That's not high at all."

            Hermione pouted. Charlie and Harry laughed, before Charlie said, "Well, you've got grease over you, so let's go get you cleaned up." He turned and began walking away, leaving Ron and Harry behind, watching curiously, but with growing grins on their faces as they realized just what was between Charlie and Hermione…

            Charlie carried Hermione through the Burrow, until they reached the bathroom. There, he placed her on the counter space beside the sink, and began rummaging through cupboards to find face cloths. When he found them, he shut the bathroom door and turned the hot water tap on. 

            "I didn't mean to get grease on you," he apologized, "It was an unplanned accident."

            Hermione laughed slightly. "It's okay. I figured you'd be covered in grease anyways, when I could hear you in the garage." She frowned. "What have you been doing to that poor car, anyways?"

            Charlie gave her a secretive grin. "I'm not planning on telling you, just yet, Mione."

            Hermione pouted, turning her head slightly away to appear miffed with him. She closed her eyes and stuck her nose in the air, pretending to be Malfoy. 

            She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt something warm and wet touch her cheek. Charlie's other hand came up and cupped her face on the other side, holding her head still. 

            "Don't move, I'm trying to get the grease off," he murmured. Hermione felt her face flush as she noticed his close proximity. 

            Hermione's legs were spread apart so that Charlie could step between them to be close to her face. His head was bent slightly, and his breath breezed over her skin like silk. Hermione nearly swooned. 

            Charlie was having a similar reaction. He knew that stepping between Hermione's spread legs would prove disastrous, but this – every breath he took made him inhale Hermione's vanilla scent, and the way he was leaning over her made him feel her breasts push lightly against his arm when she breathed. 

            He solely concentrated on removing the grease from her cheek, before moving on to her forehead. "Tilt your head back, will you?" He asked.

            Hermione did as she was told; watching him while his attention was on the stain on her forehead. His red hair was darker than all of the other Weasley's, making it almost burgundy or wine in the light. He had some growth around his chin and cheeks, and his eyes were a brilliant shade of aqua. His nose was straight and Roman, his lips full and kissable, and his chin strong. 

            She waited for him to finish taking the grease from her forehead, and watched as Charlie's hand with the cloth move away from her head to fall into the sink beside her. She glanced back up at him, only to have her eyes connect with his. 

            The hand that previously held the washcloth came up to her other cheek, cupping her face tenderly. 

            "I shouldn't do this," he murmured. "You're my little brother's best friend."

            "I know you shouldn't," replied Hermione breathlessly, "But I'll be mad if you don't."

            At those words, Charlie's head dipped and his lips found Hermione's. They pressed against hers, commandingly, possessively. He parted his lips, running the tip of his tongue against Hermione's lower lip, seeking entrance. She parted her own, and their tongues stroked against each other, learning the contours behind teeth, along the roof of the mouth, and other hidden nooks and crannies.

            Charlie moaned, dragging his lips away from Hermione's to trail across her cheek and down her neck. His hands had slipped from her cheeks to rest against her waist, where they squeezed gently and dragged her closer to him where he stood at the very edge of the countertop. 

            Hermione, in turn, wrapped her legs around his waist and placed her arms around his neck. 

            She leaned forward and bit his lobe gently, before blowing. Charlie shivered and leaned back towards Hermione for a fevered kiss that left the two breathless and panting. 

            They stared into each other eyes, desire and other unknown feelings seen, when there was a knock on the bathroom door. 

            "Hello? Is anyone in there?" came Percy's voice.

            "Damn!" Charlie swore, banging his knee on the door handle of the cupboard underneath where Hermione was sitting. She quickly let her legs drop back to the counter side, and smoothed her hair down. 

            With one last longing glance at Hermione, Charlie allowed a finger to trail down her cheek. "Later," he murmured, before apparating out of the bathroom. 

            "Hello?"

            Hermione stood and opened the bathroom door. "Sorry, it was just me, Percy."

            Percy, standing there with slightly crooked glasses, nodded and stood back. "It's all right, Hermione. Are you done now?"

            Hermione nodded and swept past him, into the hallway. Once she was sure she was alone, she leaned against the wall and let out a shaky breath. She closed her eyes and let a satisfied smile appear on her lips. 

            Without warning, two pairs of hands clamped down on Hermione; one over her mouth, the other over her eyes, and two around her waist to haul her into a near by room. 

            When she was released, Hermione saw Harry and Ron put silencing charms on the room and a "Do Not Disturb" hex on the door. 

            "What was that about?" demanded Hermione, crossing her arms. 

            Harry grinned sheepishly. "We're sorry, but we wanted to know something."

            "Yeah," chimed in Ron. 

            Hermione frowned. "About what?"

            Harry and Ron shared a Marauder's grin before saying together, "You and Charlie!"

            Hermione eyed them warily. "What about Charlie and I?"

            Ron nodded appreciatively. "Ah, she even uses proper grammar in speech!" Harry nudged him and Ron cleared his throat. "Sorry, er… well, you know… you two were pretty close out there, and when we came in to see where the two of you went the bathroom door was closed."

            "So?" Hermione asked, one eyebrow rose, as she regarded her two best friends. She felt like she was about to set off a blush machine – she could already feel the flush move up from her breasts to her neck, where it would soon be visible. 

            Harry grinned, wriggling his black eyebrows. "Well. You see, Mione, we heard some interesting noises coming from there…"

            Hermione flushed scarlet. "Right. Ron's room. Now."

            Two hours later, her two best friends were rolling around Ron's bed in a laughing fit. Hermione sat with her legs and arms crossed, sneering at the two. 

            "It isn't funny!" she wailed. 

            Ron, on his stomach, chuckled and placed his head in his hands. His calves rose and he crossed his toes. "Yes, it is. You fancy my brother, you fancy my _brother_!"

            Hermione's face turned a dangerous shade of red as she reached for Ron's pillow, underneath Harry's head, and walloped him with it. 

            Harry was still laughing, even when the pillow disappeared from underneath him, and Ron emitted an "Oh, bloody hell, that hurt!" 

            "You're bloody right it did, and it'll hurt more if you don't _shut the hell up!_" Hermione all but snarled. "So _what_, if I fancy Charlie, okay?"

            "You fancy Charlie?" another voice asked from the doorway. Hermione moaned and fell onto Ron, who started laughing all over again. 

            "'Lo, Ginny," Harry gasped out, his face red. He wheezed some more before hiccupping. "Yes, you heard that right. Mione – _hic_ – here, fancies Charlie."

            Ginny rose one eyebrow before shutting the door behind her and entering the room. She wandered over to where the trio sprawled on the bed, glancing down at them. 

            In truth, she felt as if she were invading their personal space; Harry, Ron and Hermione were always together throughout school, the war, _everything_. They had the same spot where they ate breakfast at Hogwarts; they had 'their' seats in the Gryffindor Common Room, too. Seeing them like they were now – three young wizards and witch getting ready to enter the real world… well, Ginny felt as if she were infesting herself to a Very Special Moment.  

            "So, is it true, Hermione?" Ginny asked. Another thing she resented about their closeness, she mused, was the fact that only Hermione's closest friends could ever call her 'Mione'. This, of course, didn't extend to the Twins, as they chose to call Hermione 'Herm', or Draco Malfoy, who enjoyed calling her 'beaver' (which, of course went both ways, as Draco was 'ferret', and Ron 'weasel').

            Hermione wailed some more, covering her eyes with her arm as she lay across Ron's back on her own. "Yes, it's bloody true. Do you want me to write it in permanent marker on my forehead announcing this fact to the world?"

            Harry paused in his laughing. "It would be enjoyable," he mused aloud. 

            "Shut up, you tosser!" Hermione moaned, tossing the pillow to him, instead of Ron. Harry caught it and smoothed the fabric down. 

            "So what are you going to do, Mione?" he asked instead. Ron, trying to glance at Hermione over his shoulder, nodded. 

            "Yeah, what?"

            "Dunno." 

            Ginny's eyebrows rose. "Well, first of all, you can't hang out all day with Ron or Harry, as much as they're you're best friends, you should be around Charlie as well."

            Ron's mouth dropped open. "Excuse me? When did **you** become an expert in this field of female and male relations?"

            "Since I began dating," Ginny replied smartly. 

            Ron's eyes bulged. "Pardon?"

            Hermione rolled her eyes. She twisted on Ron's back, lying next to him on her stomach, mimicking his pose. Harry eagerly did the same thing, grinning all the while. 

            "Now, Ron," Hermione began in her McGonagall voice, "You know that when a young lady reaches a certain age, her interest in the opposite sex will appear…"

            Ron's face paled, before he turned and crushed Hermione to him in a bear hug. "Quiet. Not another word, you hear me?"

            Hermione squealed in laughter and Harry cheered. 

            "BEAR HUG!" 

            He then launched himself at Hermione and Ron, once again, leaving Ginny out. She smiled sadly, knowing that no matter what she did, she'd never become part of that tight-knit group they had created. They were always so playful and friendly, even during the war. 

            With that in mind, Ginny bowed her head and quietly left the room, turning to look back at them when she was at the door. 

            They were a mess of arms and legs, pointing in every direction on Ron's bed as Harry and Ron ganged up on Hermione, tickling and rough-housing like she were one of the boys. In a way, Ginny thought, they were what the other needed when the occasion rose. 

            "Kinda sad, looking at 'em, isn't it?" Charlie's voice from behind Ginny made her start in shock. 

            "Charlie!" She whispered. "I didn't hear you come up the stairs."

            "I didn't come up them," he chuckled. Then, he lifted his head from his baby sister to watch the three on the bed, laughing and squealing and giggling. "Were they always like that?"

            "For as long as anyone remembered," Ginny replied quietly. "I… I always felt so… alone. No matter how hard they tried to include me…"

            Charlie offered a sympathetic smile. "I know, Gin. Sometimes… it's hard." He looked at the three again. "What they have… is more than any brother or sister could even imagine feeling. Harry, Ron and Hermione are so close that… well, they're inseparable."

            "In every meaning," Ginny finished. "I wouldn't be surprised if one died, they'd all go."

            Charlie nodded. "If it would come to the choice, yes, I think you're right."

            The two in the doorway were quiet, their presence unknown to the seventeen year olds. 

            "She fancies you, you know."

            Charlie grinned. "I know."

            "Do you fancy her?"

            Charlie paused, before answering carefully. "I… I think I do."

            Ginny nodded and then turned to her older brother. With a maturity that Charlie didn't think she possessed, she said calmly, "If you hurt her, you hurt them. You hurt them, you deal with me."

            Charlie replied with a solemn twinkle in his eyes as he gave his sister a one-armed hug, and then turned to enter Ron's room. 

            He knocked, before announcing loudly, "Oy, oy, oy, what's going on in here?"

            Ginny stood back and watched when the three on the bed all looked up from their game, exclaiming, "Charlie!" in the same tone at the same time. They burst into laughter, one that Charlie joined in as he grabbed Ron around the scruff of his neck and began to mess his hair up. 

            Harry and Hermione shared a wicked look before piling onto Charlie and attacking his own short hair. 

            With a soft smile on her face, Ginny turned and left.

            "So. Who fancies a drive into the town?" Charlie asked a little while later. The foursome was lying around Ron's bedroom. Ron was engrossed with a Quidditch magazine, his ankles crossed as he fluffed the pillows behind him up. Harry was sitting on the floor across from Hermione, playing Exploding Snap, while Hermione was leaning against Charlie's chest. 

            Charlie reached around and flicked one of Hermione's shimmering cards from her pile, making it land on Harry's, exploding. Harry coughed, letting out a cloud of black smoke. 

            "I'll go," she volunteered. 

            "Oooh," Harry and Ron immediately cajoled. "Up for some necking in the backseat of a car, Mione?"

            Hermione blushed and Charlie chuckled. When her blush was forced down, Hermione replied in a very calm voice, "maybe."

            Ron's jaw dropped. Harry's eyebrows rose. They shared a glance, and Ron moved off the bed to face his older brother. Clearing his throat, he began, "Charlie… I know that you are my brother, and that you're interested in my best friend…"

            "Save it, Ron," Charlie said dismissively. "I've been giving the 'older/protective brother' speech now for a while, so don't think about using it on _me_, got that?"

            Ron turned crimson. 

            "That's not a pretty look." Hermione pointed that out, flicking another smoldering card into the growing pile. Harry winced, but the card didn't explode; he grinned wobbly. 

            "So are we going?" Charlie asked. 

            Hermione nodded. "Yes, we are." They stood and waved goodbye to Ron and Harry, (who shouted something like, "Be back by midnight, kiddies!") and headed towards the garage. 

            "Do you know how to drive?" Hermione questioned. 

            Charlie ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ahh…"

            "I'll take that as a no. Would you like to learn?" she offered, kindly, looking up at him with those chocolate eyes for hers. 

            Charlie beamed, pulling the girl close to him. "I'd like that very much."

            Hermione smiled back, and once they arrived at the garage, Hermione began explaining certain aspects of the car that she learned a couple years ago. 

            Then, she sat in the driver's seat, put the keys in the ignition, and drove the two of them to an abandoned piece of road. 

            She got out and Charlie followed. 

            "Right, so we're going to start easy. Knowing what all the blinky things are for, etc., and then getting the feel of handling the car when you're driving it," Hermione explained, putting the keys into Charlie's tanned and scarred hand. "Ready?"

            Charlie gulped audibly. "Yes."

            Twenty minutes later, Charlie was cruising at ten kilometers an hour, his knuckles white as the gripped the steering wheel at three and ten o'clock. 

            "Am I doing this right?" he asked, glancing over at Hermione, who was smiling serenely into the (slowly) passing scenery. 

            "Yes, I am – Charlie! Eyes on the bloody road!" Hermione shrieked, and Charlie panicked as his eyes swiveled back to the road in time to avoid hitting the cow head-on.

            The car rolled forward into a ditch on the side of the country lane, Hermione babbling about him easing off the gas and then her hands were over his, pulling the car straight again and rubbing his tight for him to ease off the gas. 

            It was almost ten yards from where the cow stood in the middle of the road, still chewing grass. 

            Charlie pulled his trembling hands from the steering wheel, grasping Hermione's tightly in his, laughing weakly when she joined it. 

            Soon, tears were spilling down their cheeks and their stomachs' ached with laughter. Hermione leaned from the passenger seat to Charlie, kissing his cheek. 

            "I…" she gasped, "have never had… that much fun… in such a… long time!"

            Charlie let out a mighty bark of laughter. "I'm glad that my inexperience can make you smile." He stroked a finger down Hermione's stained cheek. "You need to smile and laugh more, Hermione." He murmured to her, smiling softly when she sighed. 

            "Thank you, Charlie," she whispered back. 

            "No," he said, kissing the corner of her mouth. "Don't thank me for being you."

            Hermione leaned forward and rested her forehead on Charlie's. "No, Charlie, _thank you_, for being there when I needed someone."

Aww, how sweet. No clue when the next part is coming out, I'm still planning chapter three, but I can tell everyone that there will be **five** chapters in total, because that's how many verses there are in the song, minus the chorus. ALSO: **PLEASE** DO NOT badger me about when the next chapter is coming out. In case you haven't noticed, I am a really person, not a robot updating stories on a whim. I have a life and family and friends outside of the virtual, Internet world that also take up my time. Please understand this. I don't care if I get flamed, I consider it childish and petty. I like reviews. I like _nice_ reviews. So there. Read, review and enjoy, Kneazle [Jan.4.04]


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